


Going Pro

by iwasanartist



Category: IT (Movies - Muschietti)
Genre: Flashbacks, M/M, Pre-IT Chapter Two (2019), Sexuality, Solicitation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-22
Updated: 2020-01-22
Packaged: 2021-02-27 08:28:32
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 829
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22364143
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/iwasanartist/pseuds/iwasanartist
Summary: Richie thinks if he can just get it over with -- get some experience -- everything will be better. He even lucked out with a pretty nice guy.  But it's not that easy.
Relationships: Richie Tozier/OMC
Kudos: 3





	Going Pro

Richie'd planned everything to the hilt. Contact lenses, a decent wig liberated from a prop house, rental car and distant motel room acquired with a fake ID. It should have been easy. But now he was standing in a tiny bathroom, splashing water on his face and trying to buck himself up like he hadn't been the one to arrange all this.

"Come on Tozier, you got this," he said to his reflection. "This is it. The big time. Get it all out of your system ... maybe get a little something *into* your system ... and everything will be better. Different. It's fine. You got this." He exhaled sharply and dried his face before stepping back out into the room.

"Everything okay in there?"

"Yeah. Yeah ... sorry, I don't remember your name?"

"Gray."

"Gray. Right." Richie'd pulled up the curb and Gray was the first one to walk up. He was good looking. Fit body, coiffed hair and he did things with makeup Richie had never seen up close on another man before. And his smile was soft and gentle. He made it easy for Richie to motion him into the car.

"Is this your first time going pro?" Gray asked as he sauntered over. He was inches from Richie. He could feel his body heat as he leaned in. Richie couldn't speak, he just nodded his head ever so slightly. "Well. I'll make sure to make it good one." His lips had barely touched Richie's when Richie pulled away sharply.

"Sorry, sorry," he said. "I don't..."

Gray's expression softened even more.

"Oh," he said. "I see. Knocking a couple firsts out of the way tonight. It's okay. We can slow down." Gray sat down on the bed and patted the space next to him. "Maybe just watch some TV?" He clicked a button on the remote and the room lit up with a blue glow. Richie had been three seconds from bolting, but he couldn't help himself as he turned around to see sweaty Michael J. Fox clanging a basketball off the rim of a hoop.

"I love this movie!" Gray said. "Haven't seen it since I was a kid."

"Yeah...yeah, it's a good one." Richie said absently. He was barely aware of walking to the bed or sitting down next to Gray. But he did, and for a moment they just watched TV. It wasn't until the high school party that never looked like anything Richie'd ever been to -- when Michael and what's her name were together alone in a dark closet that Richie felt Gray's lips on his cheek. His tongue around his ear. The volume creeped down and then there was a hand on his opposite cheek, pulling Richie's face toward Gray.

The kiss was gentle at first. Soft and chaste before deepening. There was a tongue in his mouth. A dude had a tongue in his mouth and it was heaven and hell and he squeaked around it like some sort of mouse until Gray pulled back.

"Doing okay?"

"Y...," Richie's words left him, and all he could do was nod.

"Still a little too fast?"

Richie was barely aware of his own head moving up and down ever so slightly. But Gray just smiled again and snuggled in close.

"Okay," he whispered, and kissed Richie's neck. His lips didn't travel far from that stretch of skin, but one hand reached up to Richie's chest, expertly plucking at the buttons of his shirt before sliding inside to lay his palm against the cotton of Richie's T-shirt. His fingers scratched up and down and there something about it that made Richie freeze. The layer of fabric between them almost made it feel like Gray's hand was gloved. He could feel Gray's makeup rubbing against his cheek like greasepaint and something inside of him wanted to scream.

"Stop, stop, stop," he said, pulling Gray's hand out of his shirt and pushing himself away. "I can't do this, I'm sorry." His heart was racing. He looked everywhere except at Gray as he reached for his wallet, pulled out $200 and let it slip from his fingers onto the bed.

"Hey, it's okay-"

"N...no, it's not. Sorry. Look, room's paid for, check out's at 11, I gotta go."

Richie grabbed his bag, hurried out of the room, to his rental car and was two miles away pulled into a brightly lit gas station when his eyes started to burn and his head itched. He ripped off the wig, tossed it in the backseat and took a little more care with the contacts. It wasn't until he'd scrubbed his face clean with a rogue wetnap from a drive-thru barbecue stop and put his glasses back on that he started to feel something approaching normal as the random, sudden fear subsided.

Gripping the steering wheel until his knuckles were white, he stared at himself in the rearview mirror.

"What the fuck was that, Rich?" he said to no one.


End file.
